


Enthralled

by hunter_king



Series: Supernatural - Wincest [8]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Swearing, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:56:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_king/pseuds/hunter_king
Summary: After killing a nest of vampires, Sam is haunted with dreams of the legendary Count Dracula, ultimately leading up to Dracula seeking Sam out as his next victim. Can Dean save his brother before he is turned into one of the very things they hunt? Or will Dean have to kill the one person in this world that he had sworn to protect?





	Enthralled

"Sammy, down!" Dean yelled, firing the crossbow as soon as his brother was out of harms way. The vampire's lips twitched upwards as the tip of the bow hit it's heart. A crossbow? Really, he thought Sam and Dean Winchester would know better. However, his smile soon turned into a frown as he fell to his knees, his body feeling weak, nearly paralyzed.

Sam brought his machete up, smirking. "Dead man's blood, you sonuvabitch," he explained, swinging the weapon and severing the vampire's head. He licked his lips as he watched the head roll and bounce away from the body just before the thing slumped over onto the ground. Their job was kind of gross when he took the time to think about it, wiping the blood that had splattered onto him off his cheek. He didn't know why anyone would ever want to do what they did. Revenge or not.

 

His eyes scanned the room, taking in all of the bodies laying around with no heads, all of the heads randomly strewn about. This had been a total blood bath, and not in a good way. The nest had been rather large, about nine or ten vampires squatting in this abandoned warehouse. And some of them had been feisty, Sam almost having been bitten three or four times. He must have had a neon sign on his chest saying _Come eat me! I taste good!_ because none of the vampires had tried to bite his brother. Maybe Sam was just the easier target.

A hand thrust out towards him, which Sam took, allowing his brother to pull him to his feet. Of course, Dean saw the blood on his cheek and immediately cupped his face, examining him for wounds. He wasn't hurt. Well, he had some scratches on his neck and shoulders where the vampire's nails had clawed into him while they were trying to grab at him to bite him, but other than that, he was fine.

"You all right, Sammy?" Dean asked, gently rubbing his thumb along the younger male's neck where there was a particularly angry looking scratch. Seeing his brother nod, he was satisfied, pulling his hands away from Sam. It was kind of weird touching Sam when it wasn't absolutely necessary these days. Then again, Dean supposed that was normal behavior after what had happened.

The younger Winchester had been drinking...a lot, and when Dean went to put his drunk ass to bed, Sam grabbed his arm and begged him to listen to him. Told him that he had something important to tell him and that it was a secret so he couldn't tell anyone. Dean, figuring this was just Sam having one of his drunk moments, the kid was hilarious when he wasn't sober, agreed to listen. However, this wasn't a funny moment. Sam had told Dean that he loved him, as in _loved_ him. More than a brother should. How the hell did he respond to something like that?! Dean had no clue, so he just put his brother to bed, and spent the night thinking over what Sam had told him.

By morning, he still had nothing, so he just let it go, hoping that Sam didn't remember what he'd said. And the younger male hadn't said anything to him about it after he was done praying to the porcelain, so he figured Sam didn't remember. Of course, that didn't help Dean, who had been forced to think about how he really felt for Sam, coming to the conclusion that, yeah, he loved Sam. And he was sure that love went a lot deeper than just brotherly feelings. But how could he act on it? Sam was his brother, and he'd already been fucked up enough because of the life they lead, so how was Dean supposed to be expected to mess his little brother up anymore?

He just couldn't do it. So, this is how they operated, now. When they were hunting, nothing changed, Dean always having Sam's back and vice versa; however, when they weren't hunting, their relationship seemed strained and awkward. Dean hated it, but this is what needed to be done.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Sam did remember what he'd said when he was drunk. The next morning, he wasn't only puking because of the alcohol. Sure, it was a big part of it, a _really_ big part of it, but not the only factor. He couldn't believe that he'd told Dean about how he feels, something he swore to keep to himself even if it killed him. Dean had enough on his plate. He didn't need Sam's problems, too. But that's what happened when Sam got wasted. He tended to just blurt things out that weren't meant to come out, and now Dean knew everything. And everything was ruining what they had together.

Sighing, Sam wiped the blood from his machete on the back of the closest fang to him before he looked back up at his brother, hazel orbs silently begging Dean to just forget about what he said and let everything go back to being normal. But Dean didn't get the silent plea, and Sam knew it wouldn't have helped even if he had. That was a huge secret, and he knew Dean thought he was gross and demented now. Really, Sam couldn't blame him because he knew it was the truth. Even he felt that way about himself and the feelings of love weren't directed towards him, obviously. So, yeah, Dean had every right to hate him now.

Dean shoved the key into the lock, popping the trunk and tossing his machete and crossbow into the hidden weapons compartment. "So, we should head back over to Bobby's place. He said he might have a lead on that yellow-eyed sonuvabitch."

Frowning, Sam looked at Dean, shaking his head. "Dean, I thought we were going to check out the possible vampire situation over in Denver. It was your idea, remember." Hanging his head, Sam tossed his own weapon in the trunk. "You seemed so excited about it."

A small smile came to Dean's face as his brother hung his head, loving it when the younger male did that because his hair just covered his eyes this way and it was so beautiful. "Well, I was going to, but then Bobby called. And Dad's waiting for us over there, so we kind of need to be there." Slamming the trunk closed, Dean walked to the driver's seat, pulling the door open. "Besides, if Bobby's really onto something, we can find this sonuvabitch and end this once and for all."

His brother did have a point, Sam knew, but that didn't mean he had to like it. After all, going to Bobby's meant that he and Dean had to sleep in the same room, probably the same bed unless Dean wanted to sack out on the couch, which wasn't likely. It was all just going to be a big mess, and Sam was sure it was going to drive an even bigger wedge between them. He didn't want that right now.

Nevertheless, he climbed into the car, slamming his door behind him, but not too hard because God forbid he might hurt Dean's precious baby, and curled up against the window. There was no point in arguing with Dean when he got an idea in his head, so Sam was just going to take a much needed nap and deal with the sleeping situation when the time came. Better to do it that way, he supposed.

As they left the warehouse and drove away, neither of the boys noticed the dark blue eyes boring holes into Sam's back.

**~~**

Dean cut the engine as he pulled the Impala into the salvage yard, yanking the keys from the ignition before pocketing them. A small smiled graced his lips when he looked over at his brother, sleeping soundly, head pressed against the window. He looked so peaceful, Dean almost didn't want to wake him up, but he wasn't about to let the younger male sleep in the car. So, he gently slapped him in the arm, calling, "Sammy, come on, wake up. We're here."

Feeling someone hit him, Sam jerked awake, inhaling deeply as he looked around. It was really dark, but he could make out the silhouette’s of cars in the distance, so he figured they were at Bobby's place. Stretching, Sam glanced at the clock, only to be disappointed when he saw the car was off. "What time is it?"

"A little past midnight," Dean answered, smiling. "I called Bobby about an hour ago and told him we were almost here. Come on, he's waiting for us." Quickly, Dean shouldered open the door, climbing out before softly closing it again. Once Sam had done the same, Dean started walking to the door, making sure he was standing right next to his brother. Sure, Sam was a hunter, and Dean knew he could take care of himself, but that didn't mean he didn't worry. And if he was close to Sam, then he could protect him if something bad were to happen.

Once they reached the porch, Dean knocked on the door, smiling when they were greeted by Bobby. "Hey Bobby," he greeted, stepping into the house when Bobby stepped aside to make a little more room.

Sam smiled at Bobby as he walked past, figuring it was a good enough hello. After all, he was tired and he just wanted to get a shower and get some sleep. He'd be a lot more pleasant in the morning when he didn't feel like he was about to fall over.

"Hey boys, nice to see ya again," Bobby greeted, smiling at Sam and Dean. It had been a while since he'd seen them in person. Sure, he'd given them phone calls every once and a while, but other than that, it'd been almost a year since he saw Dean, and about five since he'd seen Sam. "Come on in. There's some left over pizza on the table if you're hungry. Just keep it down. Yer daddy's sleepin' on the couch."

Giving Bobby a small smile, Dean shook his head. "Nah, thanks. I think we're just going to crash. Been a long day." Where Dean was going to crash was way beyond him. There was no way he was sleeping in the same bed as Sam, yet his only other option now that his father was sleeping on the couch was with Bobby, and that was probably even worse than Sam.

Bobby nodded when Dean explained that it had been a long day and he just wanted to get some sleep. It was understandable. After all, they had been in Illinois just fifteen hours ago, which meant there was no stops in between except for maybe food and bathroom breaks. It was no wonder they were tired. "Well, yer room's ready for you if you want to turn in." The boys had been here plenty of times before, and they never had a problem sleeping in the same bed, so he didn't think it would be a problem now. Of course, he didn't know about Sam's secret, so he was in the dark, somewhat.

Well, that was it. There was nowhere else for Dean to sleep, which meant in the same bed as his little brother. Great. Maybe he'd just sleep on the floor. Sighing, he trudged up the stairs after Sam, hoping like hell the Sasquatch was awake enough not to fall down on top of him because he wasn't looking too steady on his feet. That was the last thing Dean needed right now; Sam to topple down the stairs and take Dean with him because he was walking behind him.

Once inside the room, Dean frowned, staring at the bed. It looked a lot smaller than it usually did, but he was sure that was just his imagination messing with his head. "So, I can sleep on the floor if you want the bed," he suggested, making sure not to make eye contact with Sam.

"What?" Sam asked, brows knit in confusion as his head snapped to look at Dean. "That's ridiculous, Dean. We can both sleep on the bed. It's big enough." Great. He knew this was going to happen. Dean would have never had a problem sleeping on the bed if Sam could have just kept his mouth shut. But no, he had to go and screw everything up, and now his brother was trying so hard to stay away from him that he was actually putting his physical health in danger. Sleeping on the floor would cause his back, and neck, and God knows what else to ache.

Slowly, Dean drug his tongue along his lips, contemplating what Sam was saying. The bed was big enough. He was sure of that because this wasn't the first time they'd been here. Of course, they'd grown since then, especially Sam, so maybe the bed wasn't big enough. However, he didn't want to argue with Sam because he knew the kid was tired, and he really didn't have a problem sleeping on the bed, except the fear of what it might do to his libido, so he just nodded. "All right, we can both sleep on the bed."

Sam nodded when Dean agreed, glad they weren't going to get into a huge argument about this. He was tired, after all, and didn't feel like fighting with Dean. They did that enough, in his opinion. "Okay. I'm going to grab a quick shower before I go to sleep. I'll be really quiet, so if you want to sleep, go ahead."

Nodding, Dean moved to the bed, waiting for Sam to get into the bathroom before he stripped off his shirt and jeans, rifling through his duffel for something he could wear to bed. Unfortunately, unlike Sam, he didn't have pajama bottoms he could just throw on, so he was going to have to sleep in his boxers. He did, however have a T-shirt he could wear, snatching it up and pulling it over his head. At least it was something.

Now that he was dressed, he climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around his shoulders. As he lay there, he listened to the sound of the shower running, allowing the noise t lull him to sleep. After all, it was going to be a much easier night if he was sleeping before Sam came into the room.

About ten minutes later, Sam walked into the room, big, fluffy white towel slung around his waist. He'd forgotten to grab clothes before he went into the bathroom, so he was grateful Dean was sleeping when he got out of the shower. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other without clothes on, sometimes even having to pull each other's clothes off after a particularly gruesome hunt, but since the _incident_ they had been very careful about being fully clothed around each other.

Quickly, Sam grabbed his duffel, looking through it's contents until he found his blue plaid pajama bottoms and his old Stanford T-shirt. He then grabbed up a pair of white briefs before he head back into the bathroom to get dressed. It wasn't long before Sam was back in the room, crawling under the covers beside his brother.

Due to the fact that he was so exhausted, Sam was out almost immediate, blankets pulled up t his shoulders so he wouldn't make Dean lose his own blanket position. Usually, Sam just slept with the covers around his waist, but when he was in the same bed as Dean, he learned to keep the blankets around his shoulders. Otherwise, he woke up his brother who had a tendency to be cranky if his sleep was disturbed.

Unfortunately, Sam's sleep wasn't exactly peaceful, haunted by images of a dark-clad figure with dark blue eyes that seemed to penetrate right through Sam. The figure seemed dangerous, though everything about it made Sam yearn to be near it. That stare...holding Sam's gaze and making him feel warm and chilled to the bone at the same time.

He was startled awake as the figure reached for him by a hand shoving at his arm. A hand that he recognized as his brother's luckily, otherwise there would have been fists flying after the dream he'd just had. Even in his awake state he could still feel those eyes on him.

"Sam, come on," Dean instructed, nudging him again. "Bobby made breakfast. You know how he is when he makes food and you don't eat it."

A small frown passed Sam's lips when Dean reminded him of just how Bobby reacted if he made food and no one ate it. They'd once been here when Sam was eleven and Dean had made him really mad because he wouldn't stop poking him in the car. Finally, when John had told them to settle down, Dean had listened, but by that time Sam was already pissed. And he stayed mad all the way through dinner, which meant he didn't eat all of it. So, Bobby had made him sit at the table until his plate was clean, threatening to force feed him if Sam didn't eat it by himself.

That had been a less than pleasant experience. So, Sam climbed out of bed, not wanting to upset Bobby and run the risk of getting fed like a three year old.

**~~**

The rest of the day after breakfast was spent researching, checking up on omens that Bobby thought had something to do with the demon who killed Mary. It had been a long day of countless books and weather reports, which, even for Sam who generally loved research, wasn't all that exciting.

Finally, around eleven o'clock, John stood and grabbed his coat, glancing at Dean, who was also standing. "Hey, Sammy, we're going out for drinks. You want to come along?" Dean asked, eying his brother. Usually Sam wasn't all that into the bar scene, so Dean could understand if Sam didn't want to go. Of course, if he didn't, then he was going to be the only one here because even Bobby was coming along, tired of always being cooped up in his house.

Sam smiled softly at his brother, shaking his head. "No, I think I'll just stay here and read a little more," he answered, not willing to let himself get drunk again after what happened last time. That was a mistake he was never going to make again. Besides, he wasn't really into the whole bar scene, not loving the idea of going to see his brother get hit on by countless women until he finally picked one up and took her back to the hotel for a night. Generally, that lead to a night of Sam jerking off in the back seat of the Impala before finally falling asleep, and he just wasn't in the mood for that right now.

With a wave and a threat from Bobby that if he messed anything up he was going to kick his ass, the men were on their way, leaving Sam alone in the house. It was quiet now that everyone was gone, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Sighing, he pushed himself off the couch, stretching out his long frame before he walked up the stairs, intent on just going to bed. After all, last night he hadn't exactly gotten much sleep due to the nightmares, and quite honestly, he was feeling a bit drained.

After a quick shower, brushing his teeth, and relieving himself, Sam walked into the bedroom and lied down on the cool mattress, pulling the sheet to his waist. Dean wasn't here right now, and if he wanted to move the blankets when he got home, that was fine. But for now, Sam was going to sleep the way he wanted to because he was the only one in this bed.

Due to the fact that it was kind of warm in Bobby's house, and Dean wasn't here, Sam had decided that he'd sleep shirtless. After all, Dean would probably be too drunk when he came home to even notice that he wasn't wearing a shirt, so it wasn't like it would matter much, right? At least that was Sam's way of thinking.

A few minutes of staring at the wall was all it took for Sam to be out, exhaustion taking it's toll on the younger male as he slipped off into sleep. Again, his dreams were filled with images of the dark-clad figure, tonight putting a face to the man. He was very pale with shoulder length scraggly chocolate hair and deep, dark blue eyes that Sam wanted to look away from but found that he couldn't. The man's clothes were strange, all black except for the lining of his cape and the silver chain connecting both sides of the collar on the cape. If Sam didn't know any better, he would have guessed this man was Dracula.

A cold shiver ran down Sam's spine, seemingly enveloping him with an eerie chill which pulled him from his sleep. Knitting his brows in confusion, Sam sat up, noticing there was a strange fog coming through the door. Well, that couldn't be good. However, when the fog began to morph and form a shape, Sam's eyes widened, seeing that it was, in fact a man in the room with him now. "I-I saw you," Sam stuttered, his voice just above a whisper. "You were in my dreams. Who...are you?"

The man stared at Sam with those penetrating eyes, holding the younger male's eyes. "I apologize," he spoke, his voice low and kind of...sexy with the heavy European accent it held. "I assumed you knew. I am Dracula."

Sam frowned when he heard the man tell him that he was Dracula, licking his lips. "You're lying," he accused, though his voice was unsure. "There's no such thing. Dracula's a myth."

Smiling, the man answered, "I assure you I am not. Samuel, I have searched the world for you. I have yearned for you. For a creature who's darkness rivals my own. The Boy King." As he spoke, he moved closer, finally settling on the bed in front of Sam, close enough to touch. All Sam wanted to do was move back away, although he couldn't seem to move, his body frozen to the spot. "The boy with the demon blood."

Sam's eyes snapped up to Dracula's from the bed spread where they had fallen, wide with disbelief. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have demon blood."

"Oh, but you do, Samuel," Dracula assured him, a small smirk on his face. "Haven't you ever once wondered what that demon was doing in your nursery all those years ago when he came to your house and killed your mother?"

Slowly, Sam blinked his eyes, trying to fight back the tears threatening to fall. What he was saying couldn't be true. Sam couldn't have demon blood in him. That was something he would have definitely known about. "How did know all of that?" he asked, wondering if every damn supernatural creature knew about what happened to their family. It sure as hell seemed that way to Sam.

Smiling, Dracula locked gazes with Sam once more. "Like I told you, I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time, Samuel." His hand came up to Sam's face, long nails digging slightly into Sam's chin as Dracula pushed Sam's head to the right, hand sliding down to gently caress over the vein in Sam's neck.

"Do not fight," Dracula whispered, eyes locked with Sam's once more as he exhaled loudly, nearly growling. "I can feel your hunger." Slowly, the dark prince leaned in, teeth sinking into Sam's neck, causing the younger Winchester to gasp in shock, eyes closing as he clenched his teeth, pain radiating from Dracula's bite.

**~~**

Early the next morning, Sam woke, the soft sound of snores making him smile. Dean was still sleeping, it seemed. Turning his head to the side a little, Sam looked down at his brother, his smile widening, even as his neck screamed in pain for some reason. Frowning, he slowly pushed himself out of the bed, careful not to wake Dean as he moved to the bathroom, looking at his neck in the mirror.

As memories of the night before flooded his brain, his eyes widened, Sam frantically searching his brain to find a way to hide this. He didn't own a turtle neck, and wearing a scarf in the house would be a little odd. Hoodie, possibly? Yeah, he had one one those. Dean had given it to him before he went to Stanford, having to buy him one on a rainy day when Sam hadn't brought a jacket with him on their day out to the movies. It was Sam's sixteenth birthday, and the first time Dean had ever done something for him to make him feel like a normal kid for once.

Quickly, Sam grabbed his duffel, pulling on a gray T-shirt before shoving his arms into his hoodie, pulling it on and zipping it the whole way up, shaking his head to make his hair hang the right way over the hood. It was a little tight on him now, but that was all right. At least it still fit for the most part. Once that was done, he pulled on a pair of jeans, leaving his feet bare as he padded down the stairs, needing to talk to Bobby. After all, if anyone knew about Dracula, it would be Bobby Singer.

He found the older hunter sitting in his study looking over a few things they'd been studying yesterday. "Bobby?" he asked, smiling softly in greeting when the older hunter turned his attention towards him. "Can I ask you something? And it's going to sound a little weird, but just bear with me."

"Sure son," Bobby answered, motioning to a chair so Sam knew to sit. Once Sam did as he was silently told, Bobby asked, "What's on your mind?"

Biting his lip, Sam asked, "What can you tell me about Dracula? Like...if he wasn't a myth, what do you know about him?"

Bobby frowned when Sam asked about Dracula, wondering what he was getting at. "Well, I happen to know that Dracula isn't a myth," Bobby assured him, grabbing a few papers from inside a drawer in his desk. "Some hunter sighted him a few years back. He was actually sired by the Dark Prince a few days after his encounter with him."

Thumbing through the pages, Bobby started, "Here's what I can tell you about him. He's not one to dwell in your everyday abandoned building like all of the other vampires we've ever faced. He prefers to live in upper class sort of houses, like mansions, or back in the day, castles. And his modus operandi is different from other vampires. He will kill just to feed, but he'd rather have a connection with his victims. And he has all of these mental powers to draw them in. He can read and control minds, and appear in dreams."

As Bobby spoke, Sam swallowed thickly, knowing that he had, in fact, had an encounter with Dracula last night. And the dreams before hand had probably been a way to lure Sam in, make a connection with him before he bit him. His eyes snapped up to Bobby when he continued to talk.

"The point is, though he goes through the motions of an intimate seduction, the end result is always the same he turns them into a vampire." Looking at Sam, Bobby frowned. He seemed really into this. "So, the victim should be aware that he tends to form a relationship with his prey. It's not enough for him to take the victim. He must want to be taken. He must burn for him."

Nodding, Sam licked his lips, not liking how this conversation was going. If all of that was true, then Dracula had begged him as his next victim, and Sam was under some sort of spell. He had to find a way to break it before he started burning for the dark prince. "Uh, thanks Bobby. I have to...go take a shower." Quickly, Sam moved out of the chair, running up the steps before Bobby could say another word. This was bad.

By the time Sam got back up to the room, Dean was awake, just pulling a clean shirt on as Sam walked in. Sam's eyes were drawn to the little sliver of skin showing just beneath the hem of Dean's shirt and above the waistband of his jeans, causing Sam to lick his lips. God, Dean was so hot. Sam just wanted to go over there and touch. But he wouldn't.

Dean could feel Sam's eyes on him, and it made his body tingle. Dammit, he hated it when Sam stared at him like that. "Hey, I'm not a salad," Dean stated, rolling his eyes. "Quit looking at me like you want to eat me." Frowning, he pulled on his socks, taking a seat on the bed as he grabbed up his boots. "Why are you wearing that hoodie?"

"I, uh, got cold," Sam lied, wrapping his arms around himself. It seemed like a goo enough answer. For now, at least.

"It's not even cold in here," Dean argued, eying his brother wearily. Something was definitely off about him right now. "You okay?"

Sam frowned when Dean asked him if he was okay, nodding. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he asked, licking his lips. "I'm just cold, okay?"

Standing, Dean shrugged. "Whatever. I'm heading down for some breakfast, you coming?" When Sam shook his head, Dean shrugged again. "Fine, more for me. And you better hope Bobby doesn't make you eat your breakfast, Sammy."

Once Dean was out of the room, Sam quickly moved to sit on the bed, pressing his back up against the head board as he looked at the clock. 10:30 AM. He had seven and a half hours to come up with a plan before Dracula came back for him. He didn't know how he knew that, he just did. What he did know was that he intended to be ready for him this time.

Dean barreled down the stairs, eager to get to the kitchen and eat breakfast. He was so damn hungry, he could eat a horse. However, when he saw his father and Bobby huddled together on the couch whispering about something, he frowned. He hated it when his father kept him in the dark, though he never said anything about it because he was a good soldier. But when he heard Sam's name, there was no way he wasn't getting into this.

"What about Sam?" he asked, moving in closer to the other hunters, determined to get some answers. Sam was his responsibility, and if there was something wrong, then he wanted to know about it.

"Nothing Dean," John snapped, his eyes warning his son to just drop it and go away. "This doesn't concern you."

Frowning, Dean glared defiantly at his father, causing the older male to widen his eyes in surprise. Dean had never done anything like this to him. "If it's about Sam, then it does concern me. He's my brother. Now tell me."

Bobby turned his attention to Dean, breaking the eye contact John had with his son. They could fight about whatever they were glaring at each over later. Right now, Sam needed them. "We think he's under the thrall of the dark prince," the older hunter explained.

"You mean Dracula?" Dean asked, disbelief clear in his voice. "There's no such thing, Bobby."

"Actually, Dean, there is," Bobby assured him. "Sam came to me this morning asking a whole bunch of questions about Dracula and then he ran off before I could ask why."

Sighing, Dean hung his head, feeling anger and guilt wash up inside him. He wasn't here to protect Sam last night. And if what Bobby was saying was true, then Sam had been hurt because Dean wasn't here to make sure he was okay. "How can we tell if Sam's under the thrall, or whatever?"

Quickly, Dean turned on his heels, running up the stairs, ignoring his father and Bobby as they shouted after him. His sole focus was on getting to Sam and seeing if he'd been bitten. Once up the stairs, he stormed into his and Sam's room, making a beeline for the bed and crawling onto it, pushing Sam down so that he was lying on his back, ignoring all the sounds around him Sam screaming at him, demanding to know what he was doing, his father and Bobby yelling at him to calm down and get off of Sam as he straddled the younger male.

Sam kicked and thrashed, trying to get Dean off of him. "Dean, what the hell are you doing?!" he asked, not appreciating the fact that Dean was manhandling him like this. However, when his brother's fingers closed around the zipper of his hoodie, he knew that Bobby had caught on to the fact that he had been bitten, causing Sam to thrash and scream more, hands moving to grab at Dean's wrists and pull at him, trying to get him away. "Stop it! Get off me! Dean!"

Still, Dean didn't listen to his brother, too focused on proving Bobby wrong. There was no way his brother was under the thrall of the dark prince. That was crazy! When Sam tried to pull his hands off Dean shoved at Sam's arms, ordering "Stop it, Sam!" Finally, he had a good grip on the damn zipper and he yanked it down, pulling it to the side as he shoved Sam's head left, then right. His eyes widened when he saw the wound in Sam's neck. Shit!

"Dean, get off your brother!" John yelled, moving to the bed and grabbing Dean by the back of his shirt, ready to pull him off Sam. Kid was too attached to his brother, and he needed to give Sam some space. Hell, with the way Sam was screaming, Bobby's neighbors were going to think he was being raped, or something!

Feeling hands on him, Dean moved his arms, shoving his father's hands away from him. "Look!" he yelled, pointing to Sam's neck. "He's been bitten! Dammit!" Angrily, Dean shoved off the bed, barreling down the stairs once more. Bobby would know what to do. How to keep the vampire, Dracula which was just awkward to even be thinking, away from Sam. "Bobby!" he called, finding him sitting in the study hunched over his desk. "Bobby, he got to Sam."

Bobby nodded, letting out a slow breath. "I figured he might have. You know, I'm not really surprised he came after yer kid brother. A lot of demons and the like seem to be interested in Sam for some reason, so it's not unlikely that Dracula would want to get to him first. You know, just to say he was there before any of the other ones. And when he turns Sam, he'll really get the publicity in the demon world."

"He is _not_ going to turn Sam!" Dean yelled, glaring at Bobby. "I'm not going to let that sonuvabitch touch my brother again, you hear me! I will _kill_ him if he even _looks_ at Sam!" There was no way he was going to let some thing touch his brother. He'd die going after Dracula before he let him hurt Sam.

Dean's head snapped to towards the stairs when he heard Sam yelling, in motion before he even had time to really contemplate the words.

"Just leave me alone!" Sam ordered, making his way down the stairs, his father close behind him demanding that he tell him how this happened. He knew his father was just trying to understand what happened, but Sam didn't want to talk about it. And he sure as hell didn't want to talk about it with his father. Dean, maybe, but not John.

John's hand shot out and grabbed Sam's wrist, holding tightly in his anger. "You listen to me, boy, I'm your father. When I ask you a question, you answer me. Do you understand me, Sam?!" he demanded, angry chocolate orbs locked with equally angry hazel.

When Dean saw Sam struggling against his father's hold on him, he saw red. Quickly, he moved towards Sam, shoving his father off him. "Get the hell away from him. Since when do you think it's okay to grab at him like that, huh?" he asked, glaring at his father. He knew that his behavior was probably throwing his father off, but when it came to Sam, all rules and behaviorism went out the window and all that was left was protecting Sam. No matter what the cost may be.

Turning Sam around, he gave him a gentle push towards the study. "C'mon Sammy," he ordered, walking with him to where Bobby was sitting. "Sit down and don't move." Once Sam did as he was told, Dean took his seat once again, looking at Bobby expectantly. "How do we break this thrall thing, or whatever, Bobby?"

Bobby sighed, shaking his head. "Uh, killing him would be my best guess. I mean, if he's dead then there's really no mind trap to fall into." Quickly, Bobby turned in his chair, rummaging through stacks of papers before he found the one he was looking for. "According to the hunter who first saw Dracula, he's not your general vampire. Well, not like the ones we're used to, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam to make sure he wasn't doing anything he wasn't supposed to be doing. He seemed like he was out of it, staring off at nothing. It kind of worried Dean, but as long as he was here with him, nothing bad was going to happen.

"You see, the vampires we know of, that we've faced are mutations of Dracula. He was apparently the first vampire to be in existence. His teeth are more traditional, like the ones you would see in movies. Garlic is something he's not fond of, but it doesn't really affect him, either. Stakes are useless and so are crosses. Fortunately, dead man's blood will paralyze him, holy water hurts like a sonuvabitch, and if you cut off his head with a silver blade, he should be gone for good."

Dean frowned when all Bobby seemed to be telling him was what wouldn't work on the vampire. So far, the only thing Bobby had cleared up was why Sam had a mark on his neck that looked like he had been stabbed with a barbeque fork. Finally, Bobby started getting into the good stuff and Dean listened intently, taking in every little detail. "Why silver?" Dean asked, knowing that silver never had an effect on any of the other vampires they'd faced.

Leafing through his papers again, Bobby answered, "It's said that Dracula has some shape-shifting abilities, as well. He can make himself look like a bat, or sometimes a wolf. Mostly it's just tricks, but use silver, just to be sure."

Slowly, Dean nodded, knowing that he had all the supplies he needed to keep Dracula away from his brother. And he knew just how to do that. "All right, here's what I think. Sam and I are going to stay here and wait for him to show up. In the meantime, I want you and Dad to head out and look for any place that he might be staying. Maybe you guys can hit him off before he gets here."

Bobby nodded, moving to stand and walk out of the room, grabbing John and telling him the plan. Luckily, John followed Bobby without incident, leaving Sam and Dean alone in the house. Sighing, Dean stood, walking over to Sam 's chair and dropping to his knees in front of the younger male. He still had that vacant look in his eyes which was unnerving in Dean's opinion.

His hands moved to touch Sam's biceps, holding his little brother as he said, "Hey Sammy, look at me." When his brother obliged, Dean smiled, licking his lips. "Come on, we're gonna head upstairs.

Although Sam did as Dean instructed, he could tell that his brother wasn't all there. A part of him was still off in la-la land, which was starting to piss Dean off.

He was going to rip Dracula's lungs out before he killed the bastard!

Once he had Sam upstairs, he got Sam out of the hoodie and jeans he'd thrown on, replacing the jeans with Sam's Stanford sweats before grabbing their weapons bag and hauling it onto the bed. He then began to rifle through it, searching for the items he was going to need in order to make his plan of a booby trap work.

Finding what he was looking for, Dean pulled the items out, laying them on the mattress while he placed the weapons duffel back on the floor. Quickly, he poured holy water all over the bed, watching as it soaked into the mattress. He then dipped his silver knife into the jar of dead man's blood, carefully placing the knife under the bed where he could reach it when he needed it. Finally, he picked up his machete, laying it on the floor beside the bed where he could get to it when the time was right.

"Sam," he called, turning his head to look at the younger male. "Hey, Sam!" When his brother finally looked at him, he rolled his eyes, motioning with his hand for Sam to get over to the bed. "Come here and lie down with me. It's going to be wet because there's holy water on it, but don't worry about it. Just stay here." Once Sam was close enough to him, Dean grabbed his elbow, forcing him to move faster as he lied him down, moving to the other side of the bed and lying beside his brother.

Dean's head turned to the side, gazing at his little brother. Slowly, his hand moved to stroke Sam's cheek, smiling slightly when Sam looked at him. Oh well if Sam took the hint and realized that he was trying to tell him how he felt without actually saying the words. Now was as good a time as any to let Sam know how he felt about him, right? "When's he coming, Sammy? Did he tell you?"

Nodding, Sam looked into Dean's eyes, rolling onto his side so he could see Dean better. "He said he'd be here at six thirty to come get me. And that I shouldn't fight him. That he'll make me like him a child of darkness who feeds on life itself. On blood." Sam bit his lip when he finished speaking, brows knit as though he was thinking. "I didn't fight him, you know? Last night, when he came to me. I didn't fight back. He told me not to, and I didn't."

"He's got you under some sort of crazy mind control spell, Sammy," Dean explained. "You won't be able to resist his thrall easily." Biting his lips, Dean rolled onto his side, head propped up on his elbow. "But I need you to resist him, Sam. Please? I can't let you become what he is, and I can't kill you if you do. So please, for me, say no. Tell him to go to Hell and stay right here on this bed."

Sam's own hand moved to cup Dean's cheek, thumb pressing between the older male's lips and pushing Dean's bottom lip down, revealing his teeth. "I love you," he whispered, biting his lip. "But you already knew that because I told you. And I fucked things up between us when I blabbed, didn't I?" Slowly, Sam nodded, eyes moving away from Dean's and looking at the bed sheets. "I didn't mean to. I know I should've kept my mouth shut, Dean, but I couldn't. It was like word vomit, and I couldn't make it stop. Please...don't hate me."

Quickly, Dean shook his head, frowning. "No, Sammy, I don't hate you. I could never hate you!" he assured him, pulling him in closer. "Actually, Sam, I--"

Before Dean had a chance to finish, Sam's eyes snapped back up to his, wide with what looked like a mixture of fear and wonder. "He's coming," Sam breathed, breaths panting out slightly.

Dean's head snapped towards the door, watching as fog came through the crack at the bottom of the door. So, this must be one of his crazy gypsy tricks, or whatever. Well, that wasn't so scary. Quickly, Dean grabbed Sam tighter, pulling him away from the edge of the bed where Dracula could easily reach him as he watched the fog slowly morph into a man.

"Samuel," Dracula drawled, looking into Sam's hazel eyes. "I've been waiting all day for this chance." Looking at Dean, he frowned, tilting his head to the side. "We have no business with you. Leave us."

Shaking his head, Dean answered, "I don't think so. You're not getting Sam. He's _my_ brother, and I'll kill you before you can get close enough to touch him!" The smug smile the vampire was wearing on his face made Dean's insides feel cold, but he wasn't about to back down. Nothing was going to hurt Sam as long as he was here.

"I can assure you that by the end of the night, Samuel will be with me," Dracula retorted, confidence lacing every inch of his voice. Looking at Sam once more, Dracula ordered in a soft, seductive voice, "Samuel, come to me."

When Sam heard the command, he went to sit up, ready to do as he was told, but Dean had a hold of him. Naturally, Sam fought against his brother, trying to break himself free, _needing_ to get to Dracula. There was something in him that was just screaming to go to the vampire and let him take him.

Dean tightened his hold on Sam, grunting in pain as Sam fought against him, punching his ribs and face every now and then, kneeing him in the gut. But he wasn't giving up. "Sammy," he called, fighting with all his might to keep the larger man down. "Sammy, look at me!" His eyes widened in slight shock when Sam did as he was told, the vacant look held in those eyes moments before fading slightly. "Stay with me."

Dracula could sense that he was losing Sam, a cold frown coming over his features. Apparently, Dean had more of a hold over the younger Winchester than Dracula had thought. Well, he could fix that. "Samuel, isn't it true that you love your brother?" he asked, locking gazes with Sam when he looked over at him again. He smiled when Sam nodded slightly in answer. "Doesn't it hurt that he doesn't love you back?" His smile only widened when Sam nodded once more. "I can love you like you need to be loved, Samuel. All you have to do is come to me."

Again, Sam moved to go to Dracula, and again Dean stopped him. "Sammy, no!" Dean yelled, pinning his brother down. "He's lying! Listen to me. I love you, Sam." He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing that he was literally fighting for his brother's life right now. "Sam, please, stay with me. Let me show you how much I love you."

"You're lying," Sam answered, shaking his head. "You're only saying this to me because you want me to stay on the bed. You don't really mean it." Smiling, Sam cupped Dean's cheek again. "But it's okay. I know it's wrong for me to feel this for you, and I know you can't ever love me back. Not like this. And I've accepted it."

Roughly, Dean grabbed Sam's wrist, pulling at the appendage until Sam's hand was shoved between his legs, palm pressed up against the bulge in Dean's jeans. He always got hard when he was too close to Sam nowadays, and today, it may just work in his favor. "Do you feel that?" he asked, rolling his hips into Sam's hand. "Feel that, and then tell me I'm lying."

Sam's eyes widened when his palm was pressed against his brother's crotch. And he was hard! Hazel orbs found their way to concerned jade green as Sam parted his lips, chuckling. "You're not lying?" he asked, shaking his head. His smile widened when Dean shook his head in answer, smiling.

"Samuel!" Dracula yelled, feeling very threatened. "You will come to me. And you will be mine _forever_!" Angrily, Dracula strode over to the younger male, ready to grab him, drag him off the bed, and take him against his will.

Seeing what Dracula was about to do, Dean quickly rolled off Sam and grabbed the knife he'd dipped in dead man's blood, plunging it into Dracula's heart when he got close enough. "Sam's _mine_ ," he growled, driving the knife in deeper. "And you're not taking him away from me." Pushing against the blade, Dean knocked the injured vampire off balance before he grabbed his machete, jumping off the bed and straddling the paralyzed vampire. "Eat it, monster movie," he spat, bringing the blade down hard over Dracula's neck, severing his head, blood splashing up onto Dean's face.

Once Dracula was dead, Sam snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in all day, looking at his brother. A small smile came over his lips as he looked down at Dean, his hero, covered in vampire blood because he'd been protecting him. Quickly, Sam crawled off the bed, hands cupping Dean's neck as his lips crashed over his brother's.

Luckily, there was no blood on Dean's mouth, otherwise they would have been in for a bad treat.

Dean kissed Sam back with as much intensity as he was being given, arms wrapping around the younger male's waist as his tongue pushed into Sam's mouth, mapping out the hot, wet cavern before tangling with Sam's own tongue, sucking the muscle into his own mouth, massaging it lovingly.

Suddenly, they heard the front door slam shut and then footsteps barreling up the stairs, forcing them both to pull away from each other. Just after they broke free of one another, John burst through the bedroom door, crossbow in hand, ready to fire. However, when he noticed that Dracula was already dead, he lowered the weapon, looking at his sons.

Satisfied that they were both okay, John sighed, shaking his head. "Why don't you get cleaned up before you accidentally swallow some of that blood and turn yourself?" he asked Dean, turning around and walking back down the stairs.

Smiling, Dean wiped his face with the sleeve of his over shirt. His dad was right; having this blood on him was dangerous when it was so close to his face. "Wanna take a shower?" he asked, looking at Sam as a small, seductive smirk came to his lips.

Sam nodded, quickly pushing to his feet and heading into the bathroom, yelping in slight surprise as his brother's hand connected with his ass playfully, causing Sam to give him the best bitch face he could muster. Who knew an encounter with The Count could lead to a budding relationship with your brother?


End file.
